Posts Tagged ‘Hansen e-spinner’

As sure as Mel Brooks failed to offer History of the World: Part II, this spindler has yet you bring you Rhinebeck: Part II; whilst not a sequel, health, family and life in general has resulted in more delays…frustrating, but out of my control.

The unfinished addendum focused on my time with Kevin and Beth Hansen and their electronic spinner. I learned a lot that day, my time with the Hansen’s a great finale to meeting so many interesting people and seeing the variety of items that make up the world of fiber arts.

Following a hands-on demonstration where I was able to practice using this well-made spinning machine, agreement from my friend and her sisters (whom all seemed impressed with The Hansen’s and their namesake device), I felt fully confident investing in the Hansen e-spinner.

A beautiful maple exterior, simple design, easy for me to pick up on (if you don’t recall, only mere hours earlier I saw a real life spinning wheel for the first time!) and the ability to use from bed, makes this another “tool” that allows me to spin on days I otherwise would not be able; I hope it will increase my production of finished yarn ready to knit or crochet, as it physically takes me longer and longer.

So, yes. I invested in an e-spinner.

Yes, me — self-proclaimed spindler that I am.

And, yes, I like using it.

Yet, it cannot replace my hand spindles.

I feel lost the mornings I am unable to spin in MY living room chair, which, BTW, is in the wrong spot! An issue I have struggled with for many years now. My mother, one of THE MOST caring, loving human beings I will ever know, decided “change is good” and moved MY chair over a year ago. I suggested we move HER chair, so she could reap the benefits of rearranging the living room, but no…she respectfully declined. Just like the only change in congress, the only change in our living room had no benefit to me.

In fact, the power of feng shui is dead in my world…a quick demise for a victim lost in the throes of a struggle in the name of change. Specifically, when it comes to moving MY favorite chair from it’s corner, where all MY favorite chairs spent their days from the time I was a young girl to the present, where I now live at home as an adult…change is NOT good.

I’m not bitter or upset though.

Nope.

So, I sit in front of the picture window, looking out toward the dining room (table’s in the wrong spot now too! oy.) with one of my three favorite spindles — 2 Russians and a Tibetan. Always, my morning meditation involves spinning one of Loop’s bumps — this particular one is only for mornings. I keep 2 spindles in the bag the fiber came in and grab an S-shaped “lap-bowl” Joshua Lynch designed so I could spin from the wheelchair. It easily works from anywhere — wheelchair, bed, car, LR chair in the wrong spot …

I used to do yoga. Starting off every morning centered, energized; ending my days in poses that drained away the stresses of the day. For awhile, I worked with someone on modified poses for home and sessions in her office, where ropes built into a wall supported and enabled many poses I thought no longer possible. This was pre-wheelchair and other health maladies.

I miss yoga. I miss it very much.

In it’s place, beginning my own meditation of sorts: spinning. Using one of two spindles special to me — in part, because the kindness of the talented individuals that made each; in part, because they are so beautiful; in part, because they bring me the most JOY.

We all have gems in our collections. The one made with your favorite wood. The one that seems to spin forever, effortlessly. The one that fits you hand just so, as if it were literally made for you. The one that came unexpected, that you had extra money to buy, that caught your eye, that has an OOAK property….

I enjoy spinning a great number of my spindles, but two more than all others.

(And, no, I won’t reveal which 2 they are!)

But these 2 spindles helped me accept an important change. (Not the mis-placement of MY chair.)

Maybe choice is a better word.

No longer able to do yoga left me 2 choices: lay in bed missing yoga or find a new way to start my days. I struggled with this for the longest time, until the second of the 2 spindles arrived.

I was lost in the act of spinning. Relaxed, loving the beauty of this new spindle and how soft it felt against my hand — a perfect fit! — watching it spin (it was/is so smooth and fast I sometimes can’t even tell it’s spinning until it slows down! I’ve experienced this with others since, but at that time….this spindle was, well, meant for ME, for my hands — how COOL is that?).

Like saying a mantra over and over, the act of flicking the thin shaft, drafting, another flick to allow the singles to wrap around the shaft just below my fingers. Over and over, like holding a pose to release the stress of the day in my muscles OR painting — brushes in each hand until, viscerally, I knew my work was done.

Singles butterflied onto an ever-growing cop — I knew I found a solution.

All kidding aside, every day I am able, I ask for help to sit in the (ill-positioned) chair and start my day spinning. Not a traditional meditation, but I’ve never been much for conventional ways — in my life, they seem to serve as a place of which to jump off. An understanding of the results of practices like meditation and yoga and an openness to discover I don’t need them to center myself.

Complicated? Never as much as I make it out to be.

Difficult? Yes, sometimes it is difficult when no longer able to do something I love. Something, like yoga, that I would never choose to let go.

Sad? No. Not if my life is defined by limits.

Limitations, like convention, can be a place to dive into the water, with open heart and mind to discover all that is possible.

I’m rambling; it’s late, I’m tired and still want to finish editing more content for the website and blog…but I cannot stop thinking about the importance of possibility. Of how, especially at first, the moment life changes, the moment we look down and no longer see the foundation of which we thought secure to stand upon…

What does one do without ground to stand on?

We fly in the air,
We dive into the water,
We call aweather the wind,
We recognize the earth below.

We realize our feet are never firmly planted in the ground,
They can’t be.
They never were; but —
We know we are OK.